


Memories in the Moonlight

by Evan_Jellicle



Category: Cats - Andrew Lloyd Webber, Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats - T. S. Eliot
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:54:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26977675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evan_Jellicle/pseuds/Evan_Jellicle
Summary: After a rough night soothing Rumpleteazer's nightmares about their time with Macavity, Mungojerrie gets some fresh air, and ends up having a chat with Munkustrap.
Kudos: 26





	Memories in the Moonlight

Mungojerrie was generally a pretty happy cat. During the day, he found that he could mostly avoid the worse memories of the time before he and his sister had joined the Jellicle tribe. He could laugh and joke and make a nuisance of himself, and that was distraction enough from the darker thoughts that needled their way in when his brain fell silent. At night, he and Rumpleteazer would go thieving, and that kept his mind occupied too. When Rumpleteazer got nightmares, he focused his attention on calming her down and making her cosy.

Tonight had been one such night. They’d had a good time thieving together and had picked up a few shiny trinkets alongside a joint, fresh out the oven, that was only mostly cold by the time they dragged it back to the junkyard. The other Jellicles had been duly appreciative of the feast, even if the older cats had disapproved of their procurement methods. Munkustrap had been particularly critical since he had to make a show of chastising their stealing for the benefit of the kittens.

Neither Mungojerrie nor his sister let on how deeply some of his words stung. Even when Munkustrap said something particularly cutting about his brother, Macavity’s, influence on the duo, the two just shared a steadying glance and continued as if nothing had happened. But something had happened. Painful memories were brought closer to the surface, and although Demeter’s startle at the name made Munkustrap check himself and apologise, the damage had already been enough to ensure this would be a nightmare night.

Once they were alone, it had taken several hours for Mungojerrie to get Rumpleteazer to settle. Each time she seemed to be drifting off, a noise in the junkyard would startle her and she’d cling onto him stiffly, her claws digging in. And Mungojerrie would talk to her softly about potatoes and circuses and trinkets and desserts and she’d calm slightly just in time for another fright from outside. This pattern continued on repeat for what seemed like forever, but eventually, exhaustion took over and she succumbed to sleep.

But by that point, Mungojerrie was a wound up string of nerves himself, and he resigned himself to another restless night. Licking one of the scratches that Rumpleteazer had accidentally caused in her earlier panic, Mungojerrie looked down at his sister, curled in a tiny ball, the fur around her eyelashes matted with tears. He certainly didn’t want to wake her with his moving around, so he carefully disentangled himself from her and tiptoed out of their den.

The junkyard was quiet. _Why couldn’t it have been this quiet three hours ago?_ And the moonlight sparkled in places, making it seem almost magical. But Mungojerrie wasn’t in the mood for fantasies. If he wanted magic – which right now he didn’t – he’d get Misto to show him some new tricks. Mungojerrie stifled a stressed growl and noticed he was clawing at his fur. He needed to get away from the den, so he pounced up onto one of the walls that made up the junkyard perimeter.

“Argh!” A loud cry near his ear made him jump. Mungojerrie scrambled backwards, his back rippling with anxiety. He could feel panic crashing over him as his thoughts regressed back to Macavity’s lair. The smell of blood, and filth and rats. Aggressive voices, pushing, scratching, fighting. Always hungry, always cold, always on guard, always unsafe. And then the voice cut through that.

“Oh, it’s just you, Mungojerrie,” the voice that had scared him was softer now. His eyes were scrunched shut, but Mungojerrie knew that voice. It had Macavity’s authoritative cadence and accent, but it was kinder and less scratchy. Mungojerrie could feel himself slipping between two realities. Or rather, reality and his waking nightmare. “Um, Mungojerrie, are you alright?”

Mungojerrie couldn’t answer. He sensed the owner of the voice coming nearer. He smelled soap on the owner’s well-groomed coat. The Rum-Tum-Tugger would have had more hairspray, which meant this one was… Munkustrap. Which meant chances were he was going to receive a scolding for something. It was generally frowned upon for the younger cats to be wandering around this late. He tensed and felt his ears flatten in spite of themselves. Gingerly, he opened his eyes and willed himself to turn on the self-assured clown personality that the long-suffering protector was more accustomed to.

“Oh, hi there, ‘Straps,” Mungojerrie was too tired, and too on edge to muster anything but the weakest of swaggers. “You, uh, startled me.”

The corners of Munkustrap’s mouth twitched. “ _I_ startled _you_?”

“Well, yeah.” Mungojerrie pawed at the wall to alleviate some of his agitation. “Ain’t good form to yowl at cats in the middle of the night…”

“You pounced on me!”

Mungojerrie felt himself bristle. “Yeah, technically, but it was an accident! I mean, I was aiming for the wall. I guess, I was a bit distracted, but it wasn’t my fault.” He hated how his words spilled away from him, but it was as if when he started talking he just couldn’t stop. “I mean, I suppose I’m sorry and everything. I’ll get out your way.”

Munkustrap nodded thoughtfully, but as Mungojerrie moved to spring off the wall into the street below, Munkustrap seemed to reconsider. “Actually, Mungojerrie, could you stick around for a minute.”

Mungojerrie’s eyes snapped towards the protector, “I know we ain’t really meant to be out this late, if that’s what you’re gettin' at,” he babbled, partially from nerves, partially from habit, but mostly because he really didn’t want to hear whatever it was Munkustrap had to say, “I’m just tryin’ to not wake ‘Teaze on account of her takin’ so long to settle, on account of the night… time.” Mungojerrie felt his face heat up under his fur and he wished that the top of this wall they were perched on had a trapdoor that could swallow him up. He’d almost let slip about the nightmares. He shrank back defensively, not trusting himself to continue, and braced himself for his telling off.

“I see,” Munkustrap’s voice was tight, but it was also caring. It was still weird to hear that in anyone who wasn’t his sister. “Is Rumpleteazer all right?” Munkustrap asked.

Mungojerrie forced a smile, “Oh, yes. Right as rain, tomorrow she’ll be bouncin' around like none of this ever happened.”

Munkustrap expression darkened. He looked… concerned. “None of _what_ ever happened, Mungojerrie?”

 _Shoot._ Mungojerrie was too tired to keep track of his lies and his mouth. His head was pounding. He tried another grin and slid into even further cockney, “Aw, nothin’ you need to worry about, guv.”

“I’m not in the mood for you games, ‘Jerrie,” Munkstrap rolled his eyes, “If Rumpleteazer is ill…”

“She ain’t ill!” Mungojerrie snapped. “She just had a hard night is all.” He didn’t add, _No thanks to you_.

Munkustrap was taken aback by the sudden mood swing. He knew Mungojerrie was protective of his sister, but this was different. He raised his paws placatingly, and Mungojerrie had the grace to look a little ashamed at his outburst.

“Sorry guv,” the calico mumbled. “She’s alright. Really.”

Munkustrap nodded, accepting this. “Okay, ‘Jerrie. And how about you?” He sat down on the wall and allowed his legs to swing over the ledge.

Mungojerrie eyed him, suspiciously. “Um, what _abou'_ me, guv?”

“Are you alright?” The question was innocent enough. Mungojerrie forced his third smile of the conversation.

“Me, guv?” he didn’t like where this was headed. “I’m fine. Always.” His smile felt strained. Did it look strained?

“Mungojerrie,” Munkustrap sighed, “It’s okay if you’re not okay all the time.” Mungojerrie’s jaw tightened. He wasn’t smiling now.

“Don’t know what you’re talkin' about, guv.”

“I think I have a pretty accurate idea of what, and _who_ caused Rumpleteazer to be…” Munkustrap paused, “…right as rain this evening.” Mungojerrie glared at the ground, far below them, and didn’t offer any indication that he’d heard. Munkustrap continued. “My brother is a very evil, and depraved, cat. He’s cruel. He’s subtle. He’s charming. He’s vicious. He tormented me and Tugger when we were growing up together and from what I know of his abuse of Demeter and Bomba, he’s only worsened since then.”

“‘Straps, you don’t need to-” Mungojerrie began, but Munkustrap cut him off.

“Just listen, please.”

Mungojerrie risked a glance at the protector’s grave expression. He felt his stomach tighten and he flicked his tail in agitation, wanting nothing more than to get away from this horrible conversation. But Munkustrap looked so earnest that Mungojerrie couldn’t bring himself to deny the request. Besides, it wasn’t like he had any better options. So he gave a short nod and gestured for the protector to continue.

“Thank you,” Munkustrap seemed genuinely grateful. He took a breath. “Earlier this evening, I compared you and your sister to him.” Mungojerrie flinched at the memory. “That was cruel and wrong of me, and not just because of how he treated you specifically – although that makes my actions tonight all the worse. But because you two are nothing like my brother. Criminal activity aside, you’re fun and caring and protective. You’re jokers, but you know when a joke’s gone too far. You’re brave and optimistic and I’ll always be grateful to you for your part in rescuing Demeter from my brother and your continued contributions towards thwarting his machinations.”

“It’s alright, ‘Straps,” Mungojerrie was fiddling with his whiskers. “Water under the bridge, and all that.”

Munkustrap somehow managed to smile seriously, “Well, thank you, Mungojerrie. But while I do unreservedly apologise for what I said earlier, what I’m concerned about is how your time working for my brother is still affecting you. Both of you.”

“We’re doing okay mostly,” Mungojerrie lied. “Tonight was bad, but it’s just a blip.” Munkustrap nodded slowly.

“I hate to ask this, ‘Jerrie,” he said sincerely, “but how many blips would you estimate you’ve had this month?” Mungojerrie arched his back, his claws snapping out of their own accord.

“Have you been spying on us?” he demanded, hardly noticing that this confirmed what Munkustrap had feared.

“No, I’ve not been spying, but I can’t help but notice the dark circles under your eyes.”

“Oh. Well, I’ve always had them,” Mungojerrie protested.

“You’re sleeping much of the day,”

“I’m a lazy guy.”

“You have a pathological compulsion to nick stuff you don’t want or need.”

“I-” Mungojerrie trailed off and stared into the middle distance. He couldn’t really argue that one. The chaos twins’ den was brimming with stolen knick-knacks that neither of them used. Jerrie couldn’t explain it, stealing with Rumpleteazer was his only secure constant. It had been the only time they’d been allowed out when they were members of the Hidden Paw. Macavity’s gang. “That one’s just who we are,” he said eventually. It worried Munkustrap how numb the younger cat sounded. “‘Teazer’s scared you’ll kick us out, and I am too, but you take away the stealing and there won’t really be anything left of us to kick.”

“We’re not going to force you to stop stealing,” Munkustrap assured him. “My father made the decision and I won’t overrule it just because I disagree. Do you think Tugger would still be playing his blasted bagpipes each Jellicle Ball if I banned everything I disagreed with?”

“Old Deut’ ain’t gonna be around forever,” Mungojerrie stated coldly. Munkustrap winced, he didn’t like the idea of his father dying, even if he were ascending to the Heaviside Layer to begin his Jellicle Life anew.

“Well, even when my father does ascend,” Munkustrap said, “it’s going to take more than the theft of a few baubles to make me kick you out. I like you, I like both of you. I don’t trust you around my belongings for a second, but I like you. And so do the rest of the tribe. Jenny, Skimble, the kittens, Plato and Admetus and everyone else, even Alonzo likes you, and he doesn’t like anyone.”

Mungojerrie was fidgeting with his whiskers again. “That kinda talk,” he muttered, agitated, “Feelings and friendship and apologies… they’re the sorts of things that would get you beaten up in the Hidden Paw.”

Munkustrap looked at the young tom before him. On the cusp of kitten and cathood, Mungojerrie was small and couldn’t reliably be counted on to win a playfight with Plato, let alone hold his own amongst the kind of cats in Macavity’s gangs. And Rumpleteazer was even smaller. Here was just another cruelty to fuel the mounting hatred that Munkustrap felt for his psychopathic brother.

“I suppose this must be quite an uncomfortable subject for you then,” Munkustrap guessed cautiously. The calico shrugged one shoulder and nodded. Munkustrap smiled sadly, “Well, you and your sister don’t have to worry about the Hidden Paw any longer. You are now Jellicles and you are our family. We protect each other, and no-one’s going to beat you or ‘Teazer up anymore. We won’t let them.”

Mungojerrie wasn’t sure how much of that to believe, but it was helping his breathing relax so he wasn’t going to challenge it. If it was a lie, it was a nice one, and right now that was what Mungojerrie needed. He could interrogate it in the morning. Well, in the later morning. The sun was already just peeking up over the horizon. He yawned. He was so tired.

Munkustrap saw how his words had helped a little, and now had a clearer idea of some of the fears bothering the young calico twins, but at the moment it looked like this twin might fall asleep on the wall if he didn’t return to his den soon.

“Let’s head back,” Munkustrap suggested, and the relief on the younger tom’s face was heartbreaking. It had clearly been a difficult conversation. Munkustrap resolved to talk to Jenny and Skimble about it, and they could work on plans to make the pair feel more secure of their place in the tribe. After all, the calico twins were Jellicles now.

_Feline fearless, faithful and true to others who do what Jellicles do._


End file.
